Contesting Results
by Hellsing Legion
Summary: We, the autonomous collective legion, present for your delight and titillation, 35 Hellsing ficlets of various and sundry themes, pairings and characters. Click and be entertained.
1. Heresies

Disclaimer: Neither of the characters belong to us but to Bram Stoker and Kouta Hirano. Except one original owned by his creator.

Authors' Notes: This collective of ficlets and drabbles was done in celebration for the 50th review in the livejournal community, hellsingreviews. Each author chose two characters for a fic with their interaction, romantic or no, between two Hellsing characters (some couldn't help but add more, but the main spirit remained) or one Hellsing character and another original, historical, fictional. Any genre (there's tragedy, drama, humor, kinky ones, spiritual ones, action, etc. Depends of the take of each writer), from G to R rating and any setting (anime or manga). The writers will appreciate **constructive** comments addressing to each piece. Happy reading!

* * *

Author: Anna Belmont

Pairing/Interaction: Enrico Maxwell and Antony (Enrico's cousin).

----

**Heresies **

"Pelegius," Enrico said. "Sixth century."  
  
Antony shook his head. "Fifth."  
  
"Fuck." He downed the shot. "I always miss that one."  
  
"Which is why I always use it. The Panarion."  
  
"Lists seventy-seven. Or eighty, depending on how you count."   
  
Antony nodded.   
  
"Uh – the five _Solas."_  
  
"All five? You're trying to kill me."  
  
"No, I'm trying to get you really, really drunk, so I can talk you into doing something that you'd otherwise never agree to."  
  
"Is that what this is about? Don't tell me you want me to go deal with the Hellsing woman for you again."  
  
"Because, you know, it worked so well when I went by myself last time."  
  
"I told you not to bring Anderson with you. He has all the charm of a fried newt."  
  
"So, if I win, you go to England. Five _solas."_  
  
"_Scriptura, Christus, Fide, Gratia,_ and… um. Fuck."  
  
"Fuck is not one of the _solas."_  
  
He swore, drank, and then said, "_Deo Gloria._ You know, you could just **ask** me to go to England. You don't have to indulge in the Heretical Drinking Game, at which you always **lose,** to try and coerce me into going."  
  
"I don't **always** lose. I won last Christmas."  
  
"Because I was already drunk when we started. And Heinkel was helping you. Not exactly fair."  
  
"It was a team effort. You had a teammate, too."  
  
"Yes, because Yumiko's up on all the heresies. She's a field agent for a **reason."**  
  
"Heinkel is **also** a field agent. Try again."  
  
"So when I whip you at this game, which I will, because I always do, Christmas notwithstanding, what do I get?"  
  
"You get to take a trip to England and spend a few days with a beautiful woman?"  
  
"Very funny."  
  
"Well, she **is,** you've said so yourself."  
  
"Yes. She is. Beautiful as a stained-glass window, and about as warm and welcoming."  
  
"So you'll do it?"  
  
"I hate you." He poured another shot and contemplated it.  
  
"So you've said."  
  
"Yes. I'll do it." He drank.


	2. Her Conviction

Author: Araceli Maura.  
  
Pairing/Interaction: Integral Hellsing and Walter K. Dornez.  
  
Setting: After Alucard's release.

----

**Her Conviction**

She could watch him while he slept if she thought it would calm her fears. All she had to do was unlatch the hook that kept the coffin lid tightly shut and push it up to prove to herself that he truly was there, and that the past 48 hours had not been a trick of her young imagination. She could do it, easily.

"Miss Hellsing?" A sharp voice rang through the confines of the dungeon room, reverberating off the walls eerily. Clearly this room wasn't meant for sound.

The dimly lit presence of Hellsing's caretaker approached Integra from the side, his eyes darting to the closed coffin lying in front of the young girl. "Miss Hellsing, you shouldn't be here at this hour."

Integra made no move to respond as she turned her head away from Walter and focused her sharp eyes on the glaring wood of the rectangular box. He was going to tell her to leave, that this wasn't the place for a young girl; especially the young female leader of Hellsing. It wasn't proper for her to be staring at the coffin of the ancient vampire trusted to her care as if he were some tourist attraction. Regardless of what she knew was proper and improper for a woman of her status to do, she refused to leave; refused to back down until she knew exactly what he was doing.

Integra blinked, momentarily breaking the constant gaze she held trained on the far corner of the room.

"Walter?" She asked, her voice quiet yet containing a kind of strength and regal prowess that a child of her age had no business being burdened with.

The Hellsing caretaker turned to her, his blue eyes trailing the outline of her face. "Yes, Miss Hellsing?"

"He shows me things." She said, her eyes still rooted to the coffin, waiting for it to pop open at any moment. She looked ready for something, as if she were steeling herself for an oncoming battle.

Walter started at the sentence, his face registering concern and confusion as his eyebrows knitted together. He let her continue without interruption.  
  
"In my head, he shows me things. Images, pictures, things I'm not sure are real or imaginary." She paused and bit her lip, the only sign of a childish insecurity she had shown openly in the past 48 hours. "I see myself as a woman, leading this organization with pride and conviction." At this she looked down, unsure of how to continue without alienating the respect of the only remaining person she trusted. She trudged on, spitting out the words with certainty as if she needed to convince him to believe her.

"And sometimes, I see myself older, and unhappy." She looked up now, her vivid blue eyes narrowing. "I see pictures of my organization crumbling before me, of my men dying around me. They're all thrown together in a collage of images like a movie in my head that won't stop playing. It will never stop playing." Her voice trailed off and she looked at the ground again, her fists clenched at her sides.

Walter watched her carefully, waiting for her to continue before speaking his own thoughts. After a few moments had passed, he spoke.

"He's testing you."

Integra's head cocked to the side in momentary confusion and Walter watched as her bright gaze trailed a line back to the object still lying unchanged in the corner. "He sends you images to force doubt into your mind. Doubts about your ability to rule, to hold this organization with such conviction as your father did." He paused for a moment and followed her gaze. "He is testing your ability as his master."

Integra took a moment to process what he had just said, thinking that being someone's 'master' sounded strange and unnatural. But it was what she had to do as the leader of Hellsing. She would learn to control him, and soon he wouldn't be able to place such doubts and false images in her minds eye. He would respect her, but first, she would make sure that she earned it.

Her blond head bounced as she nodded, her fists unfurling carefully as she crossed them in front of her chest. Walter watched as the girl before him slowly morphed into a woman, the previously soft and innocent lines of her face contorting to something harder and more defined. Part of him swelled with pride at seeing her begin to fully realize her potential and to rise above the situation with Alucard. Another part of him, the part of him that had watched her grow with fatherly intention, grew concerned that she could control such responsibility at such a young age.

"Walter," Integra spoke, her voice seeming to become deadpan and emotionless as her steely gaze moved to rest on his face. "From now on, please call me 'Sir Hellsing.'"


	3. Dirty Laundry

Author: Bishounen no Hime

Pairing/Interaction: Integral Hellsing and Pip Bernadette.

----

**Dirty Laundry**

Integra set a full kettle on the stove in the manor kitchen and turned the burner on high. Walter was out for the day on errands so she was on her own for tea. She had just set a cup and saucer on the small kitchen table, having decided to take her break there, when a riotous laughter echoed from down the hall. The laundry and utility rooms were the only things connected to that back hall. Arching an eyebrow, Integra went to investigate. She pushed through the double doors into the hall and walked it at a quick pace. Her hand stopped abruptly as it touched the door handle into the laundry room when uncontained laughter erupted from the other side. Her eyes narrowed as she leaned forward and pressed her ear against door to listen.  
  
"Hot damn!! I knew she had a rack but an **_E_** ?!?! It's a shame she ain't exactly living." _'He's talking about Seras.'_ Integra thought to herself.  
  
"When has something that trivial ever stopped you Captain?" More laughter.  
  
"Look at this!! Apparently the Boss Lady likes silk." She could here the newly hired Captain Bernadette's voice echo in the room. Several more whistles and some howls erupted as laughter returned to the men. As Integra seethed behind the door, apparently Pip had looked at the tag because next he said,  
  
"She ain't got a bad rack either. I may just have to see what I can do with the little dark-skinned vixen."  
  
Integra briskly pushed open the door and entered the room with her usual expression in place.  
  
"What are you men doing in here?" There was an explosion of movement when they realized it was her. She noted with interest that several of the men quickly closed a box that was on the floor in the middle of them and Pip quickly hid his hands behind his back.  
  
"We, uh, we were just looking for our, uh, washed clothes. Do you know where'd they be in here Sir?" She studying him discreetly, he wasn't a **terrible** liar, but she'd seen better.  
  
"There is a separate laundry room in the soldier barracks, don't you remember Captain?" She came forward and stood directly in front of him, purposefully giving her back to his men. He laughed a little too loudly and set one of his hands, which she noted was empty, on his hip.  
  
"I completely forgot!! HAHAHA!!" He stopped laughing and looked at her again, "By the way Sir Integra, where's Walter, I haven't seen him all day."  
  
"He's out on errands for the better part of today." She didn't let him know that she could see the hand motions he was making out of the bottom of her eye.  
  
"Well then, I just wanted to see what all the noise back here was about." She turned and started to walk to the door. _'Hmmm, the box the men had is gone…'_  
  
Pip started to sigh in relief at escaping being caught when his boss stopped in her tracks as she stood near the door; she was looking behind the dryer.  
  
"Ah, here's that trash Walter couldn't find." She said smoothly as she bent to pick whatever it was up. He really didn't care as long as it got her to leave; he smiled at her, his good eye closed as he waited for the door to close. When it did he heaved a sigh and fell back against the wall behind him.  
  
"That was so close it ain't funny."  
  
"Captain…" One of the guys called to him. He opened his eye and was shocked by the dejected looks on all their faces.  
  
"What is it?" They should be rejoicing damnit!!  
  
"She just took the goods." A deadpan voice answered.  
  
"WWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTTTTT????????????????????"

-------

The yell echoed all the way up to the kitchen, the utter dismay clearly evident in the new Captain's voice would have made Alucard chuckle.  
  
Seras, who had just come in the kitchen, gave Integra an odd look as the other woman threw the box in her arms on the floor in the kitchen just when the kettle started to whistle.  
  
"Porn that I just commandeered from Captain Bernadette and his men." Integra said as she kicked the box and went to take the now screaming kettle off the stove. After filling the plain teapot with the steaming water she sat it on a tray and brought it over to the small dining table.  
  
**_"NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!"_**  
  
Seras jerked as the horrified scream echoed from the back utility rooms; shakily, she looked at the other woman and saw just the barest corner of Integra's lips twitch upwards as the knight poured some of the hot water in a teacup.  
  
"He has found out that the keg of beer behind the water heater has vanished as well. Would you like some tea Seras?" 


	4. The Queen's Displeasure

Author: Bishounen no Hime

Pairing/Interaction: Integral Hellsing and Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II.

----

**The Queen's Displeasure**

"Am I allowed to skip to the next question?"  
"Don't want to answer?"  
"I'm afraid to find out why you want to know. Especially given next month's date."  
"Alright, then how about this…whisper"  
"No."  
"No? Are you sure?"  
"Yes."  
"Yes you're sure, or yes you do?"  
"Yes I'm sure."  
"Really?"  
"Really."  
"Hmmm…"  
"Hmmm?"  
"Well, I'm not sure that you're sure."  
"You're almost as bad as he is."  
"Why, has he asked you the same question?"  
"No. Well, in his own manner I suppose he has."  
"Has he now?"  
"You know how he is."  
"Yes, he can be quite…difficult."  
"Difficult is a mild way of putting it. Obnoxious, self-centered, egotistical wanker is my choice of words."  
"I've never known you to use such language."  
"I'm simply calling him what he is."  
"He is not all that egotistical. From what little I can gather from the conversations I've had with him, powerful women seem to turn him on."  
"That isn't much better."  
"You just don't like the idea that he is the only male you can't scare off."  
"You've been talking to Walter."  
"Perhaps."   
"And it's not just that."  
"Then what?"  
"He's dead; a walking corpse that survives off drinking blood and he wants to make me one as well."  
"So if he was living you'd be shagging him like a bitch in heat?"  
choke "YOUR MAJESTY!!"  
"That's what you get for not telling me you're dress size for my Christmas Ball."   
  
Queen Elizabeth slid an envelope across the table to the still coughing Sir Integra. She watched the younger woman over the rim of her teacup as she gave the invite a distrustful look. She sipped the steaming beverage as Integra's stoic, azure eyes lifted to her own.  
  
"And no, your tea attempting to choke you will not be excepted as an excuse from this event."


	5. Glory to God

Author: BlueMew.

Pairing/Interaction: Wolfe Heinkel and Enrico Maxwell.

----

**Glory to God**

She had received new orders, but not from Section XIII. Her commander was undoubtedly furious; it was not every day that a member of Iscariot was shown on a reputable news station, shooting young men and women as she shouted praises to God.

The small corridor that led to the entrance of Father Maxwell's office seemed to shrink since her last visit to the commander, and in just a few paces the door was in front of her, slightly ajar so that she could hear Maxwell humming as his pen scratched across paper.

"Father," She breathed in as she heard the humming cease, her words caught in her throat. The newest incident was far worse than a few terrorists and fellow Catholics seeing Iscariot's actions.

"Come in Sister."

As she entered, her confidence returned slightly. Maxwell's eyes were calm and his posture relaxed. "Why have you disobeyed my orders Heinkel?"

She stopped immediately, eyes opening wide in surprise. He didn't know.

"Commander," She stepped closer, "Father Maxwell," she was now resting her hands upon his desk, "Enrico, I have sinned."

Maxwell only raised an eyebrow before chuckling. "Sister, you cannot sin while doing God's work." Raising his right hand, he waved a quick blessing as he turned back to his paperwork. "I expect you to meet with Father Anderson and Sister Takagi to complete your mission. God be with you."

The immediate dismissal was just too much. She had expected the usual rant about how incompetent she was, at how the mission was a failure despite completing the initial objective.

"They say I killed a Catholic; a child of a Deacon, nonetheless. His parents want me tried as a terrorist, or so that is what Section III has told me."

"He was involved with Pagans. You were only doing God's work."

"I am going to be excommunicated!"

The slap of flesh upon wood brought Maxwell's attention back to the woman standing in his office. Heinkel was shaking with rage, her eyes fierce from behind her dark glasses.

He could only smirk.

"Heinkel, you act as if I do not realize the seriousness of the charges being brought against you from this heathen's parents. As Catholics, they should have instilled proper morals and fear in to their child. Our legal teams will sort through this mess, so I would like that you continue with your mission."

"But Section III-"

"I don't give a damn what Section III says!" He was now standing, their faces inches from one another. "You are under MY command Heinkel! Go continue God's work, for the Glory of Him and His Beloved Church!"

With a wink, he returned to his chair, pushing his hair behind his shoulder with his left hand as his right grasped the pen he had been holding earlier.

The nun could only smile as she turned from the office. "I do what I must for the Glory of God."


	6. Birds of Prey

Author: Docky.

Pairing/Interaction: Seras Victoria and Alexander Anderson.

----

**Birds of Prey**

Father Anderson was pacing the length of the small room he'd been shoved into a few minutes prior. It wasn't fair, he had every right to be at this special Vatican meeting, but Maxwell had insisted that he be confined to this little waiting room down the hall from the conference. In frustration, he sighed and kicked the gilded table next to him, grinning in satisfaction when the wood groaned from the contact.  
  
"You go in here and wait, miss," came the instructions of Father Renaldo as he ushered in a visibly uneasy woman in a light khaki uniform, of which she was trying desperately to keep the hem of her skirt for creeping any higher as she walked.   
  
Spinning around, to face the elder priest and his charge, Anderson caught and held the crimson gaze of the young woman. Shock waged with anger as his brain tried to find words to voice his outrage as he pointed an accusing finger at the girl.  
  
At the same time, Seras stared in horror at the tall priest. What kind of sick joke was this? She was supposed to wait in here with…with…_that_! Eyes wide and body trembling with shock she raised her arm and pointed at the priest.   
  
"You," roared the mighty Paladin.  
"You," squeaked the frightened vampire.  
  
"You," interrupted Father Renaldo in an exasperated voice, "…you, two are to stay here and behave!" With that, he shoved Seras all the way into the room, marched over to a large ornate cabinet and pulled a box from one of its many drawers. A loud crash behind him had Father Renaldo gritting his teeth and muttering as he turned around. Turning, he found the police officer trying to fend off one of Anderson's blessed blades with what remained of a priceless antique end-table.  
  
"Now stop it!" yelled the elder priest, catching the attention of the two combatants, "both of you are under strict orders not to shed blood or fight in the Holy City! Now sit down and behave!" A bit shocked by Father Renaldo's outburst Anderson sheepishly put away his blades, while Seras peaked out from behind the heavy gold inlaid end-table she was holding up as a gaudy shield.  
  
Holding back a stream of stress induced curses, Father Renaldo stalked up to Anderson and shoved the box into the man's large, gloved hands. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before opening them again, Father Renaldo leveled a glare at both Seras and Anderson before imparting his final instructions.  
  
"You two will be here for a while, so occupy yourselves with something useful for a change," he said, motioning to the box. Turning on his heel, he walked stiffly to the open door, pausing long enough to throw another glare over his shoulder at the two enemies before slamming the door solidly behind him.  
  
Annoyed at the whole situation, Anderson ripped the top of the box off and stared at its contents. Seras, curiosity overcoming her fear of the blond priest, tossed the damaged table away and came to peer down into the box Anderson was holding.  
  
Eyebrows raised, she looked up at the glowering Anderson and said the first thing that came to mind, "Fuck me blind! We're supposed to do that?"  
  
A few hours later.  
  
Sir Integral, Enrico Maxwell were walking down the hallway to collect their respective subordinates, trading insults and sniping away at each other with casual flair. The Vatican meeting with Hellsing had gone rather well without the interruptions of Alucard, who had been confined to the Hellsing grounds. Coming around a corner, they spied Walter and Father Renaldo eaves dropping outside a door.  
  
A bit surprised at her subordinate's behavior, Integral cocked a questioning eyebrow at Walter, who put a finger to his lips and motioned her closer. Stealing a glance at the overtly curious Maxwell, Integral shrugged and moved over to Walter's side. From inside the room they could hear the muffled voices of a man and a woman.  
  
"Is that…" Integral whispered to Walter, who nodded his affirmation. "Then who is the other voi…" Maxwell, who frowned and said softly, "Anderson", interrupted her whispered question. Eyes widening, Integral turned her attention back to the conversation in the other room.  
  
"Do you think it will fit? I mean the tip of it seems awfully large for the hole," Seras said a bit doubtfully.  
  
"It should, that's how the book said it went. Besides the shaft is a bit smaller and smooth so it should slide in there…" Anderson paused, "Hmm, seems a bit more snug than I first thought." A soft grunt could be heard along with sounds of muttered curse words.   
  
"It's not going in.," he said flatly.  
"Wha? You're the guy! You're supposed to know what you're doing!"  
"Oh, stuff it, Draculina, I've never did this before, either!"  
  
Integral, her cheeks burning, sputtered in a harsh whisper, "I really don't think we should be…" Only to be shushed by another outburst from the room.  
  
"Damn it, just shove it in already," snapped Seras, followed by a male grunt and a soft scrapping sound. "How's that, then?"  
"Hmm, seems a bit snug…"Anderson replied.  
"Well the book said that it should slide in and out easily."  
"No…och, oh Jesu Cristi…it's stuck!" exclaimed Anderson.  
"Stuck? Oh, that's not good. The book didn't say anything about this," replied Seras uncertainly, "Say, try jiggling it about some…"  
  
By this time Integral was mortified and the men around her seemingly enthralled. Even Walter seemed intent on the happenings in the other room, Integral mused while fumbling for a cigar and her trusty lighter. As she took a soothing puff of nicotine, she formulated the outraged verbal lashing that she would give these middle-aged perverts. Grinding her teeth, nearly severing the cigar in her mouth, she clenched her fists and turned to the three men listening in varying degrees of lust and disgust.   
  
Blue eyes flashing with cold fire, she spat out, "You are the most disgusting…" but before she could even get started she was once more interrupted by the antics of the occupants of the other room.  
  
A male yelp followed by incoherent cursing, echoed even out into the hallway.  
  
"Damnit, girl! It broke off!"  
  
Integral choked on her cigar as Father Renaldo fainted and both Maxwell and Walter turned subtle shades of green.  
  
"You big oaf! You used too much force…now what? Can we glue it back on?"  
  
That was the straw; Integral lost her rage and dissolved into laughter, alerting the occupants in question to their audience outside the door.   
  
The door was thrown open and a flustered looking Seras stormed out and went to Integral, "I can't believe it. He broke it. After all that work getting it ready!" This just sent Integral into another fit of laughter. Confused Seras tried to explain the dire situation, "We were following instructions when that idiot," she said pointing at Anderson as he emerged from the room carrying something in his hands, "used too much force and broke the shaft off…look at it!"  
  
"Heavens, Officer Victoria! I don't want to see it!" exclaimed a slightly shocked Integral as Seras grabbed Anderson and ushered him over to the Hellsing leader.   
  
"Here, show her," ordered Seras.  
Jerking his arm from the young vampire, Anderson gave Seras a death glare and shoved his hands out for Sir Integral to inspect what he was holding. Curiosity winning out over her better judgment (which she'd later rationalize, along with the rest of her behavior, as a consequence of exhaustion from the long meeting with people who, in her opinion had the IQ of stewed rabbits) Integral peered into the paladin's hands.  
  
Resting on the pristine white of Anderson's gloves was a half finished Klingon _Bird of Prey._


	7. Curiosity

Author: Erin Ptah.

Pairing/Interaction: Seras Victoria and Pip Bernadette.

----

**Curiosity**

  
The shot rang out over an empty field somewhere in England. Half a kilometer away, a human-shaped cardboard target collapsed, sporting a large hole in its side that most certainly hadn't been there a moment ago. Landing on its back in the damp grass, it took its place beside a dozen similar targets, all of which were missing large chunks of themselves.  
  
As there were no shootable things left standing, Senior Hellsing Officer Seras Victoria shouldered the massive Harkonnen Cannon and surveyed her handiwork.  
  
Her ears caught the rustle of boots in the grass behind her and she turned, half starting to lower her cannon again - it wasn't loaded at the moment, but it was plenty formidable without being fired. Then she relaxed as she recognized the solder approaching from the direction of the Hellsing mansion.  
  
Captain Pip Bernadette.  
  
It was a warm night; he'd been on a mission earlier, but had since changed into a pair of rather threadbare jeans and a shirt with some eccentric design on it. Probably a band logo, Seras thought. His disconcertingly long orange hair was out of its usual braid, and thus hanging down his back instead of tossed casually over his shoulders. (And in front of his neck.)  
  
Seras winced. She wished Pip's neck weren't so . . . uncovered. Not that she, y'know, _liked_ him or anything - it's just that, well, he was young and healthy and she could almost see the blood rushing through his neck if she looked at it for too long. Ugh.  
  
The captain waved cheerfully at her, and a moment later - probably when he thought he was in hearing range, not realizing that she could've heard him a hundred meters earlier - called, "Hi, vampire!"  
  
Seras bristled. "Don't call me _vampire_, Captain" she snapped. "I have a name, you know."  
  
"So do I," he replied with a grin, coming to a stop a few meters from her. "But you call me 'Captain,' don'tcha?"  
  
"That's your _rank_. It's different."  
  
"I could call you 'police gi-'"  
  
"Don't you DARE." Seras shot him a glare that would have sent many humans running the other way in hysterics. Pip, being Pip, merely shrugged nonchalantly: "Everyone else calls you that."  
  
"Master and Sir Integra and Walter do. But _you_ aren't allowed to."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Something in the tone of the question made Seras start to relax. He didn't sound accusing or self-important or petulant - he sounded as if he was just interested. Still, she couldn't resist getting a good barb in.  
  
"Because," she replied coolly, "_they're_ stronger than me."  
  
Pip's eyes - eye, she corrected herself mentally; his expressions came so naturally that it was easy to forget that there was only the one eye expressing them - widened, then he burst out laughing. At her, or at himself? The joke was on him, but Seras couldn't help remaining suspicious that she'd missed something.  
  
Or maybe it was just her. After all, she'd been tense this entire conversation, whereas Pip had been utterly relaxed. Her mental state was based on previous conversations, in which he'd always, _always_ ended up harassing her. But maybe this time was different? Maybe he was actually how he seemed to be? Maybe she'd just been missing the nice guy under the insufferable tease?  
  
"Touché," grinned Pip as he began to regain his composure. "I woulda thought you were makin' fun of me, but I _did_ read Walter's file, and you're definitely right about 'im. But c'mon - all your strength is kinda useless if I have a blessed bullet on me, or a holy wafer, or somethin' of the kind."  
  
"But you don't," pointed out Seras, now thoroughly engrossed in this conversation. "If it was just us - no Harkonnen Cannon on my side," and to prove this point she let it drop with a thump onto the damp ground, "and no holy weapons on yours, I'm stronger. There's nothing you can do to me."  
  
Pip considered this. "What if I . . . I dunno, recited Bible verses or somethin'? Does scripture make you go queasy or anythin'?"  
  
Now it was Seras' turn to consider. "I don't know. I've never really gone to church regularly, and I haven't picked up a Bible since I . . . you know . . ."  
  
"Well, wanna find out?" offered the captain affably. "If they hurt you, I mean."  
  
The young vampire hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly. "All right. Do you know any Bible verses?"  
  
"Sure do." Pip cleared his throat, then began reciting from Song of Solomon. "Your two breasts are like two fawns, / like twin fawns of a gazelle / that browse among the lilies . . ."  
  
An outraged shriek echoed across the field, and the last thing Pip felt before losing consciousness was the very forceful impact of something against his skull. Later on, when he woke up in the Hellsing hospital wing, he would alternately wonder if Seras had somehow gained access to hammerspace - that mystical dimension from which anime females often pull large blunt objects with which to hit their male co-stars - and ponder the downside of satisfying one's curiosity with a female who can hit so hard that she doesn't _need_ hammerspace.  
  
He didn't look up right after his return to consciousness, or he would have seen the door swinging in the wake of someone passing through, and possibly - if he'd looked quickly enough - a flash of blonde hair. 


	8. Come Forth

Author: Essie Aster.

Pairing/Interaction: Wolfe Heinkel and Alexander Anderson.

----

**Come Forth**

Clean. Sanitary. All hospitals smell the same, like a bath of pure ammonia, and yet they all have the underlying stench of blood, sweat, and tears.  
  
London, 1997.  
  
Three foreigners stood in a hallway outside of the waiting room, one just recently arrived, each one taking the blame for what was happening; Anderson for loosing control, Yumiko for never having it, and Enrico for sending her on this thankless mission. While his two companions dealt with their fears individually - Yumiko by quietly rocking in her seat and Enrico by pacing the hall - Paladin Alexander Anderson toyed restlessly with the silver cross around his neck. As one their silent prayers rose up in intercession for the life of their friend.  
  
For a moment the Paladin's eyes drifted shut as he sought direct communion with his Master. When they reopened, overlaid on top of the scene playing out before him was the image of a young boy's hand opening up to reveal a tiny yellow seed, no bigger than the tip of a pen.  
  
_'Is this all the faith I need, Father?'_ The young voice asked. _'Can I really move a mountain with it?'_  
  
The doctor was coming out of the OR, making a nervous beeline for the large priest.  
  
_'If you have faith as small as this mustard seed, nothing will be impossible for you.'_  
  
He did not wait to hear the doctor's sad announcement, and he ignored the commotion he made by his ensuing actions. A few strides carried him through a not-yet-closed door into the OR where nurses and technicians tried to hinder his progress. Yet without hesitation Anderson pulled down the white blanket covering his comrade's face and bent over her, closing his eyes and pressing their foreheads together.  
  
'It's not your time yet, Wolfe,' he whispered to her. 'You need to wake up.' After a moment the Paladin took a shaky breath and stood erect, opening his eyes and releasing his hold on the woman. Taking a firm yet gentle grip on her lifeless hand, Anderson raised his voice. 'Little girl, I say to you get up!'  
  
With his two companions holding the doctor still at the door, and the rest of the OR halting in their work to watch the priest with sympathy, Anderson's hand received a gentle squeeze. The heart monitor started pulsing, and Wolfe Heinkel opened her eyes, narrowing them into an irritated glare as she met the emerald gaze of the Paladin.


	9. Giving the Lady Chocolates

Author: Hojo

Pairing/Interaction: Integral Hellsing and Enrico Maxwell

Setting: During the meeting in vol. 4, after the mission in Brazil.

----

**Giving the Lady Chocolates**

Alucard's entrance caught her off-guard, of course. From the gasps around her, Integra knew it caught the rest of the Round Table unaware as well. She quickly forced a smirk, trying not to give anything away. She was in total control of this meeting. She had organized it, after all, and its purpose was for the Vatican to hand information over to her.  
  
Speaking of the Vatican... She looked over, hoping to catch the insufferable Father Enrico Maxwell gaping in surprise, or having some other suitably amusing reaction. To her disappointment, he was also smirking. Catching her eye, he grinned wider and took a handful of Revels, small chocolates, from the bowl in front of him.   
  
She turned her attention back to Alucard, ordering him to remove his sunglasses before the Queen. As her pet vampire approached the monarch, she felt something small and hard hit her gloved hand. Turning away from Alucard and Elizabeth, she managed to see the second chocolate candy fall to the table after bouncing off her face.  
  
Integra looked across the table in indignation. Enrico grinned at her and flicked another chocolate. She instinctively leaned to the left, and it flew over her right shoulder.   
  
"This can't be happening," Integra thought as she fought to keep her attention on Alucard while he began his report. "He's behaving like a five year old." Another chocolate landed and skidded across her paperwork. Integra looked around, but no one seemed to be taking any notice.  
  
"No, he _courts_ like a five year old," she sighed to herself. She remembered what Walter had said to her in primary school, when several of the boys had teased her: that it was the only way they knew to show affection. How typically Catholic of him, to have no sexual maturity beyond grade school.  
  
After a moment's consideration, she flicked one of the chocolates back at him, catching him squarely in the chin. The surprised look on his face made it worthwhile.  
  
She allowed herself to smile. It wasn't as if she meant anything by it, after all.


	10. White on White

Author: Hojo.

Pairing/Interaction: Arthur Hellsing and Alucard.

Setting: Previous to _Hellsing: The Dawn._

----

**White on White**

Alucard opened the door and walked into the office. That alone would be enough to startle most members of the Hellsing Organization, as Alucard more often chose to appear behind you and speak into your ear. Arthur, however, was a bit more stalwart and a bit less sane than most members of the organization he ran. It took more than the random appearance of his family's pet nosferatu to startle him, fearless as he was in his family's service of King and Country.  
  
And yet Arthur found himself startled, not by one sort of appearance, but by another. Rather than the look of the Victorian gentleman that Alucard had worn unchangingly and anachronistically for all of Arthur's life, the vampire today wore the facade of a young man, barely more than a child. His suit was white instead of black, still smartly tailored, but of a more modern cut... only about twenty years out of date, rather than forty. His hair was straight and much longer, and instead of his top hat he wore a small fuzzy thing that Arthur might have mistaken for a lost pet in other circumstances.  
  
"I've been hearing reports that you fed on at least one member of the help during the last blackout, Alucard..." Arthur began strongly, but his voice died away as his eyes met the vampire's large, dark eyes. Even they seemed different, though the age and malevolence behind them was unchanged.  
  
"Is something wrong, Master?" Alucard asked. His voice was more quiet, a golden tenor instead of an imposing bass.   
  
Arthur was quite startled to find himself, well, startled by this unexpected development. "Why the change in costume, nosferatu?" he asked, turning discomfort into a forceful attitude.  
  
"I thought you might appreciate it," he answered, looking up in such a way that his eyes were just barely visible beneath short bangs.  
  
"Why?" Arthur struggled to keep his voice even. The room seemed unbearably warm, but he knew it wasn't, and knew also what this meant.  
  
Alucard looked away, almost demure. "I took note of the way you look at your new toy, your angel of death. I also took note of the fact that you won't touch him."  
  
"You --" And in moments, Arthur was over the desk, righteous anger and gymnastic training propelling him. "How dare you--"  
  
"--Say such things?" Alucard finished, looking up at him with a look of innocence that Arthur knew to be a front.  
  
"Yes..." Arthur growled, his voice short with frustration.  
  
"Because you want to hear them."  
  
Arthur found himself reaching for the buttons on Alucard's shirt and, knowing it was better than the alternative, let himself believe the lie of innocence that the vampire's face told.****


	11. Repaying Favors

Author: Insomniac od.

Pairing/Interaction: Integral Hellsing and Major Montana Max.

Setting: Possible AU for the manga ending.

----

**Repaying Favors**

"So Fräulein," the Major said, smiling as he paused for dramatic effect. "How do you like this room I've prepared for you?"  
  
He was pleased to see her react immediately to his taunt. How he loved the expression on her face – her pretense of calmness was almost perfect, betrayed only by the fire and indignation in her eyes at her capture. As always, it was exhilarating to observe his prey this close.  
  
'A pity she is of his blood. An enhanced Nazi of her making would be a wonderful addition to the troops. For all we know, she might even give Joleen a run for her money,' he mused.   
  
'But then again, maybe that mind wipe experiment of the Doctor's might prove to be useful.'  
  
"Hilarious," she said, breaking his thoughts. He smiled as he sensed fury seething from her voice. "Oh yes, these ropes and these torture instruments hanging in tow are everything an English woman could want. Now, what is it you want with me? I've got no time to waste with the likes of you," Integra spat. "Either spare me your dramatic antics or let me finish you off."  
  
He almost found himself laughing in response. She was bound with no possible means of escape and yet it was amazing how she refused to be defeated in spirit. Integra Hellsing was as much an interesting human being as the reports described her to be. It was no wonder that the vampire Alucard was himself, infatuated - no smitten, with her.  
  
"Feisty aren't you? Besides world anarchy and perpetual war, I don't think I want too much more," he chuckled. "Today England, tomorrow France. Ironic how it is a reverse of the direction we planned to takeover Europe. And speaking of the last war, Fräulein Hellsing, I have much favors to return to you Hellsings, or more specifically, you guys owe me one."  
  
The grimness of her situation would have broken most people, but instead of crying or stunned silence, he found Integra laughing. The Major narrowed his eyes in surprise. For the iron lady his nemesis was reputed to be, her present response reminded him more of her maniacal pet – unrestrained and frankly, downright insane.  
  
"Oh, don't tell me you mean that raid whereby Walter and Alucard took out your earlier experiments. That was a hoot," she said between chortles. "I assure you, the two of them had a most amusing time."  
  
Angrily, he slammed his hands down on the armrests of the chair she was bound too. "I assure you, you are not going to find this as amusing in a while, Fräulein Hellsing."  
  
Observing her undisguised gloating at his loss of temper, he grimaced. Far from being intimidated by him, she was intimidating him. This was not going to plan. He had assumed that she would break in a matter of minutes, given the starkly dire circumstances she was in. How he would have relished killing her slowly and painfully, his pleasure all the more increased by her begging for mercy. Damn them Hellsings. It was time to fall on the backup plan, which was much simpler - although it would, unfortunately, give him less satisfaction.   
  
'Or then again, perhaps the Doctor would like a new candidate for his multitude of experiments.'  
  
"Experiments? You don't say. The Doctor, I gather, is still fine and well? I suppose I didn't break his arms too badly the last time."  
  
He turned at the chuckle behind him - a chuckle that was too familiar for comfort. Irritated and determined to silence his prisoner, he found instead, a malicious looking Alucard in her place.  
  
A cold clamp on his mouth prevented him from crying out.  
  
The vampire smirked as he surveyed the Major's surprised expression. "Well, well … I do owe you something for the romp don't I? I assure you, Major, tonight will not be a night to forget – if you live through this, that is."


	12. Different Demons

Author: KharBevNor

Pairing/Interaction: Yumi(ko) Takagi and Seras Victoria

----

**Different Demons**

She scrutinised the young nun from across the train station, over-keen eyes shielded from the evening sun by thick ray-ban sunglasses. She seemed demure, polite, helping an old lady with her luggage, stepping aside for a mother with a pram. Such is the way of these Iscariots, she told herself. My master is a monster all the time, but these people, like me, are only monsters when the need to be. Even so, looking at the young girl in holy garb, she couldn't believe that this was the person she had seen described in the reports she had read on the bus over. Decapitated...sliced in half from head to groin...The girl smiled and blessed a small child as it ran past her.

She shook her head...this was all wrong, like so many things. She needed to see the beast inside this smiling holy-woman, or she simply could not believe it was there. Even after all this time, she refused to see the evil in something without proof.The nun stepped into the station cafeteria. Suddenly, Seras was following her, striding purposefully through the station, moving in such a way as she was seemingly un-noticeable, a young woman in a plain jumper and trousers, heavy sunglasses and untidy hair, only of interest to certain men, and then only a part of her. She was soon at the door of the caf?, scanning it. As she had hoped, the place was packed in the rush-hour, and with a little application of her considerable strength in shouldering through the queues, she soon found herself standing over the cassocked woman, a cup of tea in her hands."I'm sorry, may I sit here?"The young catholic looked up from the book she was reading."Oh, why of course..."Seras seated herself, and took a few polite sips of her coffee before trying to open up the conversation."I didn't know you got Japanese nuns.""My mother was American, she converted my father.""Ah, I see...A devout family I suppose?""Oh yes, very, that's why I felt called to my duties with the mother church..." She turned from her book, "Not meaning to be preachy, but are you religious at all?""A bit, C of E, I suppose.""Ah, of course...""But I mean, it's all the same God, isn't it?""Yes...I suppose...I..." She seemed to cut herself off, as if deliberately not wanting to debate religion. Seras tried another tack."So, what brings you to England then?""A church humanitarian scheme. Helping those in distress.""Oh really? I'm in the business of helping people as well. Maybe our paths will cross again?"The young nun looked up. Her face suddenly looked very tired and weary."I very much hope not, Nosferatu Victoria." She finished her coffee and stood up, closing the book. "You seem nice...for a demon...I wouldn't want to be made to hurt you."Seras was agape. "I...""Not all demons in this world are of Satan's creation. Some we make ourselves, I..." She stopped, and Seras noticed that her hand was clasped firmly round the table knife."Please go...I don't want to have to fight you...even if you might kill me. Killing is a sin and there is too much sin, a sum of plenty to which I myself have added far too much...go...Anderson will be here soon to pick me up anyway...please..."At the name Anderson Seras eyes widened, and, finishing her tea with a gulp, she stood and moved off, with only a single backwards glance at the bright young girl, her brow drenched with sweat, who was ever so slowly bending the metal knife in half. 


	13. The Midnight Oil

Author: KharBevNor

Pairing/Interaction: Enrico Maxwell and Alexander Anderson

----

**The Midnight Oil**

The clock struck two with a great ponderous beat. Good heavens, was that the time? Enrico looked up from the mass of papers on his desk, and squinted against the faint light of the lamps. He cursed mildly under his breath, automatically crossing himself as he did so. So late, and still so much to do. Damn, why must a _secret_ church organisation require so much infernal documentation?

He bent down to his work again, only to be brought up again by the sound of his study door opening. Squinting without his glasses, he saw it was Anderson, and he appeared to be carrying something.

The Paladin crossed the room almost gracefully, and he saw to his astonishment that the item the holy knight carried was not more work, but a tray of tea, and indeed, biscuits. He looked up surprised.

"For me, Father Anderson?"

"Aye, Father Maxwell, I thought ye could probably do wit? a break from your duties."

The Paladin took a step back, and watched, nervously as the senior churchman snapped the first of the digestives in half.

"Oh dear...but there's only one cup Father Anderson..."

"It wouldn't be fitting sir..."

"Oh no, please, I insist...have a biscuit at least..."

Anderson picked up one of the plain biscuits almost tentatively, an astonishing gesture from someone as brutal looking as he, and took a cautious bite.

"I just thought..." He began, then stopped. "Well, it grieves me to see you work so hard, sir...you always seem tired. It dinnae seem right that one with an office as high as yourself...what I mean is..." He fumbled. Maxwell watched in astonishment. This was the man who could quote every passage of the bible in context, the kindly uncle to an orphanage of young boys, the master of the savage taunt to his foe, the quick debater, the righteous sermoniser...speechless? Never, in his whole time working with him, had Maxwell seen the man at a loss for words.  
"Are you...feeling alright father?"

"I'm fine!" He snapped back. "Perfect!" His eyes darted around the room as Maxwell took his first sip. "Very nice, father, did you make this yourself?"

"Aye..."

"How uncommonly kind of you! Let never an act of Christian charity go unrewarded..." He reached for a piece of paper on his desk, and scribbled something on it quickly with his pen. "There, I?ve released you from your duties to Iscariot for tomorrow. Take the orphans somewhere nice." He beamed at the exorcist.

Anderson took the piece of paper, and then turned, and hurried out the room.

"Wonders will never cease, praise God." Murmured Enrico as he sipped again at the excellent tea, already feeling much more awake and ready to tackle the nightmare of his In-tray.

Outside the office door, Anderson leaned against the wall. His hands were over his face and he seemed to be moaning a single word softly over and over again.  
"Filthy...Filthy...Filthy...Filthy...Filthy..." 


	14. Training Session

Author: lawofar18.

Pairing/Interaction: Alexander Anderson and Father Renaldo.

**----**

**Training Session**

"Shoot me."  
  
He could see the hand that held the gun quivering with weakening resolve, could feel the frailty of human will spreading. And he knew that he could not let it touch him at any cost. Human weakness was contagious. A festering, creeping, spreading burden he had long given up.  
  
For he was no longer human. Was he?  
  
"SHOOT ME."  
  
BANG!  
  
The impact of the bullet ripped through his tall shuddering frame and knocked him back, despite his efforts to withstand the shot. He stumbled backwards, his strength as futile as a blade of grass in the wind. He could feel himself regenerating, parts knitting agonizingly back together. A searing burn in his shoulder forcing his body to heal.  
  
_I must not show pain. I must not show weakness. I am the messenger of God. I cannot show up deficient in the face of temptation and suffering. I can face the devil after forty days or more._  
  
Father Renaldo could see the younger man gritting his teeth and bracing himself. He knew what was coming before the paladin spoke.  
  
"Again. Shoot me again."  
  
He wanted to protest. Wanted to point out that the blonde priest had not yet recovered from the last barrage of bullets. Wanted to call him out on all the pain he knew the regenerator was hiding. Wanted to protest against the sheer ridiculousness of training by wantonly shooting oneself. But he didn't say anything. He never said anything.  
  
Steeling himself, he held up the gun again, aiming it straight between those piercing green eyes.  
  
Who was he to disobey orders?  
  
But how he hated to be the one assigned to Paladin Alexander Anderson's training sessions.


	15. I Never

Author: Lillian Dashwood.

Pairing/Interaction: Seras Victoria and Alucard.

----

**I Never**

Id.  
  
Bete noir.  
  
Huge, flaming pain in the arse.  
  
So many synonyms, so little time, reflected Seras Victoria as she sat slumped in her chair, eyeing Alucard, her master.  
  
Seras sighed. She'd never asked for any of this.   
  
Alright, technically she had.  
  
But, in Seras's point of view, "Please, Mr. Vampire Man, keep me from bleeding to death from this huge, oozing chest wound, which, by the way, you caused when your explosive-capped silver bullet ripped through my body like a shark through chum" was not the huge favour that Alucard made it out to be.  
  
That bloody first meeting was to set the tone for their relationship, their following encounters varying in degrees of unpleasantness that ranged from insulting to hostile to violent.  
  
Which was why Seras could not fathom why Alucard had suddenly decided that she was worthy of his company. Particularly, in this capacity.  
  
"I really don't want to do this," she said, trying to mask the fear in her voice with self-righteousness.  
  
"And, I should care...why?" he replied, his eyes glinting with seditious amusement from behind his round, red tinted spectacles.  
  
"Because this sort of thing is much more enjoyable when both participants are...willing. Plus, I've never done this before," she confessed, "I'm probably not going to be very good at it."  
  
"Everyone needs their cherry popped eventually."  
  
Seras flushed crimson. Trust Alucard to dress like a Victorian pimp but be up to date on embarassing euphemisms.  
  
"Look," she said, growing desperate, "I really think you'd be better off finding someone else to, to play with."  
  
Alucard shook his head.  
  
"You may be an indecisive weakling," he said with a sneer, "But, you're the only other vampire around here, and I find the human version of this game...unstimulating."  
  
"Because the 'human version' doesn't involve drinking blood," said Seras, her tone rising in accusation.  
  
"Correct," he replied with a leering grin, "The blood is the life, Police Girl."  
  
Seras opened her mouth to object once more, but Alucard raised one gloved hand, interrupting her.  
  
"Don't make me press this issue, Seras Victoria."  
  
Seras clamped her mouth shut and gritted her teeth. Alucard may spend the better part of his time ignoring her, but he had sired her, and that meant he could enforce his will upon her if he so chose. So, now, he was giving her a choice.  
  
She could either willingly do as he asked, or she could sit and suffer the humiliation of being forced to participate.  
  
"Fine," she spat out. She closed her eyes, mentally preparing herself for this ordeal.  
  
Seras narrowed her baby blues, licked her lips, and leaned forward.  
  
"I never had someone's hat nailed to his head," she said in crisp, cut glass tones.  
  
From his place across the table, Alucard snorted, but he picked up his shot glass full of Type A Merlot and downed it in one gulp.  
  
Seras leaned back in her chair and pursed her lips to keep from grinning.  
  
Oh yeah. She was so winning this game.


	16. Salt

Author: Lyanna Kane

Pairing/Interaction: Abraham van Helsing and Alucard/Dracula.

----

**Salt**

The salt had been at place, in all the four corners, and then more, to form the circle, scattered on the flooring. He mightn't have approached, or let others do so before him, if not for these ancient precautions. Not that they still served their original purpose; Abraham, as all those acquainted with the lost ways and their old tricks, knew well enough that there was only so much even the candles and the holy water could do, and that all his incantations would not withstand power beyond the realm of the living.   
The dead had their own old tricks, too.  
The pain in his chest from when he had been thrown to the other side of the room – the very wall- spoke of as much. Better still than the vampire's first reaction to his attempts at nearing him any: he'd paid that discourtesy with enough aching bones to keep him at bay for a few instants.   
The circle may have diminished his powers, but it would in itself do no more. And vampires, well, they were certainly creatures of power. Impulsiveness, too, he reminded himself. Though he needed no warning. Even now, he could almost hear the whispers of commerce: the count, still a shaking dark figure spread within the circle, was exchanging his reason for passion, his hatred for want.   
He had come with all intentions to seal the count's fate. Open accounts, these Abraham did not like.   
The sight of Abraham's swollen wrist, blood still pouring discreetly – no longer as intensely as it had upon the time of the cutting, but still…it had maddened this thing, this demon. This vampire who had now caught upper hand, feeding off him mercilessly as Abraham contemplated devil-knew-what, and then the foolhardy of his attempt.   
Abraham had known, of course. Known that this was all hardly enough, even though the master's blood had formed a separate circle, greater still than the one of salt, and even though he had also sketched the astrological chart of the eve's skies.  
He wished briefly he could see it, the sky. Everything. The dungeons sickened him. How much this had to do with the prisoner within, the monster he could never hope to tame, he could not tell.  
  
"It shan't be of any good," the count had said, when Abraham had finished the circle, following in his habit to predict another's each move through a quick overview of their minds. "You need my blood as well, don't you, my good doctor? To tie those invisible chains! You need something you shan't get, now don't you?" A low hiss, as the count had drawn in air it did not need, helping himself up. Waiting in the middle of a circle he could not break, on which he had called the shadows.   
This treaty of servitude was a natural extension of a thrice-cursed alliance. Two matters had brought this forth, Abraham knew, just as he knew all too well there was also some fault in his fascination with true immortals. He could not kill the count, just as much as he could not allow him his freedom. And the most perverse part of it was how Abraham was secretly at peace.  
Abraham had cupped his bloodied hand with the left one, and then willed his sore body to move. Aye, he had need of the vampire's blood to enslave him.  
Time to try again.  
They'd starved him for days and days and days. It hadn't had any noticeable effect, save perhaps for the fact that it, along with the torture, had assured he would keep more and more to himself. Abraham's assistants had suggested that, all the pain and the impossibility to regenerate properly, as well as the lack of blood, had somehow encouraged insanity.  
Abraham himself hadn't thought of such things. Though then, as he had steadied himself, and given the bare wrist an appreciative glance, the count had appeared to him as the very incarnation of despair and lust and madness.  
  
Abraham had stepped into the circle.  
Taken the first breath.  
He had never seen them summoned – writhing – coming.  
He had never had a chance to move.   
Not even the chance to cry out.  
  
And now, he was pinned down to the floor, his right hand risen against those same cursed shadows, and then the count himself. He'd carried a pistol with him – it was still there, somewhere, probably quite within his reach. But he couldn't hope to break free, so there was really no point. He found his own calm in the given circumstances disgusting. The count's burning eyes ,sliding from the wrist he had drained, over Abraham's twisted body.   
A finger joined in, removing the tie, parting the shirt. He hadn't the sort of claws to make the cuts, but this failed to prevent him from trying. Such a child in his ways. The feel of it was cold and soft and almost ticklish. The pleasure in the menace of upcoming pain.   
And then the soft touch was changed with the same cold, yet a distinctly rough replacement. His eyes snapped shut, willing the canines away from his chest, their play with the skin and the letter making.  
But the count was so thrilled. "My good doctor, your little pet wants to mark his territory…" A small sketch of the D, and then the A upper still, carrying on in this fashion…the L just at the base of the neck, and the last A to-  
No.  
He kicked at the count's feline form much as he could, rolled him over, tried to reach over the circle. Research or not, captive as he be, whatever the conditions – no _vampire_ was touching _his_ jugular.   
His efforts were met with a powerful blow. Crack, and the ribs paid the price of his insubordination. More pain – oh, how dull of the count. Abraham's breath returned, and with it a series of coughs in convulsive spasms. More kicks, for all they were worth, though they only attracted the count's low chuckles.   
He had to call for someone, just get beyond the circle, just- Oh God, he had even coughed-  
The count. He had taken as much notice as himself of the small trail of blood lingering on-  
Cold lips pressed onto his viciously, thin tongue snaking, waiting, calling, searching… the blood he had coughed up, and that he could feel still on the back of his mouth, rotting though only mere seconds had passed.   
Abraham had to do something, anything-  
-children' play with inscribing names- children's vengeance-children's ways of dealing with things that were imposed upon them-children's way of showing their dissatisfaction- gritting their teeth to-  
And suddenly, Abraham smiled. Drops of blood, _twined_ blood, joined Abraham's on the flooring.   
"Judas' kiss," the count growled, hurling him across the room, as no more than he would a puppet of cloth. And then softer, "Get out".  
More mad laughter took Abraham out. He must have crawled, or done even worst. He didn't care. The smile never left him.  
  
Alone, in the darkness, he called for those still loyal. Only shadows answered now. A long look at the deserted circle. How pitiful. A hand rose to his treacherous lips, still slightly carrying the seal of his little defeat.   
A wound he could have regenerated easily: and how ironic, really, that a bite should save men rather than end their lived. He pressed the side of the lip carefully - and more of the vampire's blood fell to complete the unholy circle.


	17. Omnia Vincit Amor

Author: Mr. Mitts.

Pairing/Interaction: Yumi(ko) Takagi and Enrico Maxwell.

----

**Omnia Vincit Amor**

The blade at Father Maxwell's throat t'was a type of edge'ed sword. And the more that Maxwell thought of it, the more it was absurd.  
It was not the situation; t'was what the blade's wielder did confer-  
"You're a heathen bastard cur," said the Sister spitting words, and she tightened up her grip till Maxwell did defer;

_"I'm not sure I really understand…"_

Sister Yumiko Takagi, although it was not she – was standing there before him, with a sabre to his throat. It glint'd in the moonlight, all beautiful and slow, and she stared him down with eyes that burn'd a tad aglow.

"You know what my better half thinks," she hissed – through teeth all set in angst, and she glower'd from beneath her black and lanky flax. "And I really won't allow it, you Godless pagan tzar - if you think you'll get away with it, I'll gut where you are."  
Now Maxwell was bemused by this quick paced turn of times, and he stood there quite befuddled by what was quoth of Yumie's lines.

_"What is the meaning of this, Sister Yumie? Put the sword down and"_

"No, you listen to me," hissed she, and she pressed the blade still tighter, "You call yourself a Priest - you filth - and preach our proud tradition – but you seem a little friendly with those of feminine persuasion."  
"That's quite untrue," said Maxwell, and he leant back a little farther, "Impure thoughts are not a job for followers of Our Master," and even as he spake it the blade came ever closer.  
"Well, Yumiko thinks it is the case;" and that shining in her eyes, proved most distressingly to Maxwell that this time he'd surely die. "She likes you, Father Maxwell, and she thinks you like her too and that's not right for God, nor either of you two. She's a sensitive girl, after all that she's gone through – and un-Christian-like charities are something a little taboo."

_"This has gone far enough," said Maxwell. He held out his hand. "I'm going to put your glasses back on now, and you'd better not do anything."_

"Oh, I'm sure of it, Dear Father," said God's most violent of berserkers, as she stared him straight and true. "But you remember what I said, because the other Sister won't – and if I think you're doing things that's better left to men, then I'll come back here and have another chat with you - straight - all over - again."

Maxwell reached up and over the blade, and pressed his hand to her face, and immediately there was the most obvious sound – the metal clang of bass. The sword did drop and hit the floor, and the Sister did step back, her hand did waver at her face as she took in the bloody hack. "Forgive me," she cried, with tears in her eyes and she did flee from the room…

And Maxwell stood, and touched his throat and said to himself;

"Well, that's the last time I point out the dirt on her lenses."


	18. Old Debts

Author: Nayela.

Pairing/Interaction: Helena and Walter K. Dornez.

----

**Old Debts**

"You have grown."   
  
_And you have not_, Walter almost said, checking himself just in time.   
  
"Obviously I have not." she replied, and then he remembered. Helena cared little about human courtesy.   
  
With one distant, sweeping gaze she took in everything: the long underground corridor; him watching her; the bucket with Victoria's evening meal he was holding. She walked past him without further ado, towards the stairs, towards the upper part of the house. Walter put down the bucket and followed.   
  
"Why are you here, Helena?" He had never seen the child vampire outside her book-lined sanctuary, yet she moved about Hellsing Manor as though she knew the place. Knew it well.   
  
"Don't worry, Angel of Death. I will not harm anyone."   
  
As if he would allow it. How had she got inside in the first place? Had someone- had Alucard- noticed the intrusion? Was it within her power to do actual harm? One could never tell, with Helena.   
  
"But why are you here?" Walter inquired again.  
  
"To reclaim what is mine." They were in front of the library now. Helena reached for the handle and pushed the double doors open. In the doorframe she turned and gave him a long, world-weary look. "You Humans are so sloppy about returning borrowed books."


	19. It's a Sin

Author: Puck 3/4.

Pairing/Interaction: Integral Hellsing and Alucard.

Setting: Possible ending for manga events or A/U, otherwise.

----

**It's a Sin**

"Father forgive me. . . I tried not to do it." Integra's low murmur broke the dead silence in a dark room lit only by prayer candles. Behind her old ghosts filled the pews, they her jury and The Father, her judge.   
  
Hair obscured her face, eyes closed and by some miracle still blue, one less visible aspect, though the distended canines gave away her new condition. "In school they taught me how to be so pure in thought, word and deed. . ." But she'd taken the taint. Integra had to; had she died in the battle- well the world would have suffered under a free Alucard and she couldn't fail so badly and leave nothing. "They didn't quite succeed."  
  
Before the altar, she knelt, under the shadows of a large cross suspended and draped in scarlet. Ironic. Giving up her life for the betterment of her fellow Englishmen, damning herself to defend God and his flock, oh he could draw the parallels from her to the cross, but that would serve nothing more than to anger her, now wouldn't it?   
  
Alucard slipped from the shadows behind her. She felt him materialize, but continued praying. "So I look back upon my life forever with a sense of shame. . ." The female Hellsing. The one who had overestimated herself. Let her stronghold be breached, her men that trusted Integra be turned to ghouls. And now the ruination of London proper, historical buildings smashed, blood tainting the Thames, and it was all her fault. "I've always been the one to blame."  
  
Amusement struck him that she was an Anglican praying in a Catholic Church. Granted it was one of the nearest structures miraculously untouched by the previous fight. And Alucard wanted to defile it. His dark nature curled about the instincts of his mind and body, how enticing Integra looked kneeling, the two faint punctures on her neck devoid of blood visible with her head bowed in submission. His mark. Her blood burning through his veins.  
  
"Master. ." And finally spoke, tone low, edged in a growl of hunger. Integra's eyes opened and she glanced over her shoulder at him, rising, one step higher than Alucard, equal in height. Even now, his power was hers to control. Integra burned with that knowledge. "Master. ." he said again, stepping forward. Her functionless breath caught, perhaps it was his blood in her veins. Or the freedom.   
  
"Not here. . .it's a holy place," Her voice contained, only an edge of harshness.   
  
He chuckled. "It's Catholic." And moved forward, catching her between the altar and his body.   
  
She sidestepped and turned, reversing her position to that of dominance. Catholic? So it was. Dark amusement etched her features and fingers ensnared the lapels of that Victorian coat. "For everything I long to do, no matter when or where or who, has one thing in common, too."  
  
Bending him back over the altar, her lips brushed his as she finished her prayer, "It's a sin."


	20. Cigarette Break

Author: Q Slash.

Pairing/Interaction: Joleen Britz and Yan Valentine.

----

**Cigarette Break**

"Yo! Jolie!" Yan Valentine flailed emphatically in an effort to get the attention of the tattoo'ed commander. With a scowl, Joleen Britz, a rough looking woman, turned to face the younger Valentine brother.   
  
"Why do you call me that? It's Joleen." A deadpanned sneer crossed over Joleen's nose, disturbing the tattoos on the right side of her face.  
  
"No shit." But Yan smiled, entering the woman's personal quarters. "But, you also bare a damn fine similarity to Angelina Jolie." Before Joleen could question Yan's logic, the dark skinned FREAK continued. "Theeee most fuckin' beautiful, hottest bitch to ever grace this shitfuck of a planet." Yan stretched out an arm, lazily letting it come to rest on his commander's strong shoulders. Joleen's one good eye looked to the young man's gloved hand, his fingertips unconsciously brushing against one of her proud breasts. "It's like havin' our own fuckin' Lara Croft, right in The Millenium Group."  
  
Joleen's eye slowly shifted from the brushing fingers, into Yan's own beady, golden eyes, which smiled with chauvinistic humor.  
  
"Think of it as a compliment."  
  
"What do you want, Yan?"  
  
Yan snickered, taking back his arm. "Some smokes, actually. I'm out."   
  
The strong commander narrowed her eye in suspicion. "That's it?"  
  
"All that I know I can get." Answered Yan with a fang-displaying smirk of honesty.  
  
Digging through the pockets of her baggy, low warn combat pants, Joleen soon pulled out a pack of cigarettes, the flimsy packaging crushed from being used and fondled. She held out the package to her peer, who took a ciggy before placing it behind his own ear.   
  
With a 'heh' of success, Yan turned his eyes to Joleen, again flashing her a grin.  
  
"Thanks Jolie!" He graced, back stepping toward the door, and then ducking out into the hall, a dull chorus of chuckles following his path.****


	21. Diseased Love

Author: SadWTF.

Pairing/Interaction: Major Montana Max and the Doc.

----

**Diseased Love**

The Major walked out of a small room, closing the door behind him to drown out a shrill noise from within. Stepping into the hallway he paused, staring at the floor beneath him. Those who did not know him would have almost felt sorry for the little man, as he wore an expression so forlorn that one would have suspected a close friend had died.  
  
The Major had everything: loads of money, a promising future, and thousands of vampire soldiers at his command. What else could a man want? A wife, naturally. Unfortunately, the few women that were part of his organization turned him down flat. He had recently proposed to Integral Hellsing, but she threw tea into his face. He couldn't take it anymore.  
  
The Major had no choice but to start proposing to men.  
  
Unfortunately, none of the men were interested – the one he just left behind laughing hysterically in his room just now being the last man left on his list of possible people he could propose to. The Major sighed and looked at his long list of names again, counting the marks to make sure he really had talked to every person.  
  
The Major stopped when he reached the end of the list. He had forgotten someone. A quick double check confirmed that he was correct – he had missed one whose name was not listed, given by the fact that he did not possess a name to begin with.  
  
"DOC!" screamed the Major as he barged into the doctor's lab.  
  
Doc closed his eyes and grimaced, not turning to look at the Major for a moment until he composed himself. "Yes?" he turned and looked down at the Major, hunching forward to further emphasize the substantial difference in their height.  
  
"Marry me," said the Major, pulling out a pistol and aiming it as high as he could – which was only up to Doc's kidneys.  
  
Doc frowned and said nothing, pausing as if he were deep in thought. While stalling, he took a few tentative steps to the right, hoping the bullet would merely glance his ribcage were the Major to shoot. Finally, he adjusted his glasses, smiling widely.  
  
"No, I'm sorry," said the doctor, gathering his hands behind his back.  
  
The Major's expression darkened as he cocked his gun. The doctor held up a hand.  
  
"I have a reason," said Doc, shrugging briefly. "I noticed something about your face and was concerned, so I ran some tests – and I just found out that you have atrophic rhinitis."  
  
The Major blanched. "I-Is it fatal?" he stammered, feeling his knees weaken. The doctor merely nodded, and to the Major it was as if his whole world crumbled around him. He dropped his pistol and left without another word, eyes watering.  
  
Doc stared at the door long after the Major had left, laughing to himself about his forgetfulness. He had, oh, _forgotten_ to tell the Major that the disease only affected pigs.  
  
But the Major was a terrible swine anyway.****


	22. Longing

Author: Sensoo.

Pairing: Rip Van Winkle and Hans Gunsche.

----

**Longing**

It was a slow night. The heat was maddening, bearing down mercilessly on the land. The air was heavy and languid beneath a sliver of a moon. Combined, the effect was suffocating and symbolic. Though pained and breathless, the world was on the cusp of change.

For the moment, these things meant little to the woman overlooking the city. Rip Van Winkle leaned on her gun, basking in the solitude of a summer night. Decades of waiting had given her much to think about, and not nearly as many answers as she might have liked. Still, if vampires had anything in abundance, it was time.

Sometimes, though she would never admit to it, Rip would forget just where in time she was. The years and dates had ceased to hold any true significance to her. She did not live by the sun any more.

An anomalous breeze crept by her, and her senses picked up someone nearby. Lazily, she lifted her rifle and spun around. Eyeing the lone figure before her, Rip lowered her weapon.

"Good evening, Captain." She smiled pleasantly, not expecting the greeting to be returned. She was not disappointed. The good Captain merely continued watching her, never hinting at just what might be going through his head.

It was only the Captain. He came and went as he pleased. He kept many secrets, for himself and for others. Chuckling to herself, Rip straightened up, adjusting her spectacles. "Actually, it isn't really a good evening. In fact…it's nights like these, spent in a faraway land, that make me long for home."

If he was surprised by the honesty her confession, he did not show it. It seemed that he was still absorbed in the poignancy of his own tragedy

"We have been away from home for a long time."

He nodded, but said nothing.

"I don't have any regrets. But I don't have much patience either." She laughed and leaned forward, her chin and hands resting on the butt her gun. She gazed up at him, awaiting some sort of acknowledgement.

The Captain turned his gaze to the sky.

"I know; it will be dawn soon." Rip sighed. "It has been ages since I've walked in the sun, but these freckles have not yet faded." As well as other things, she had freckles, fangs, and a lithe boyish figure that would not change.

"It will not be the same as I remember, but I believe that it will still be home." Fingering the swastika around her neck, Rip turned her gaze east. Toward where the sun would rise, toward where her homeland waited.

"Sometimes, I doubt that I will ever see our fatherland again." She continued smiling, however pained. The Captain looked at her once more.

He nodded again.

Rip closed her eyes. "Thank you, Captain. You have been most helpful in encouraging a silly Werewolf."

He stayed with her, for the nostalgia was catching. And together, they searched till they could stand it no more.


	23. Meditations

Author: shadeshark.

Pairing/Interaction: Integral Hellsing and Seras Victoria.

----

**Meditations**

Sir Integra worked silently, listening to the scratching sound of Seras' pen.  
  
There was a fifteen-minute interlude in her schedule, before she composed letters to the Round Table and the Queen and took a walk in the garden. She had opted to spend the time reading through the most recent field reports.   
  
Seras was there filling out her part in the effort.   
  
Actually, Seras was there to be Integra's Alucard detector. Integra had rapidly picked up on the new vampire's body language.   
  
And from Seras' innocent flirtation, Alucard was present.   
  
The only question was, where?  
  
Somewhere near the ceiling. Seras was using the most basic type of flirtation, the sort that never worked if the girl was aware of the boy's scrutiny. She was leaning her head back, gaze angled down to stare at the document, showing off her face and the curve of her neck. Sir Integra kept her gaze on her documents. She wondered which of them Alucard watched.   
  
Seras idly twirled a strand of hair, slowly crossing her legs, shifting in her seat to heighten the contrast of inward curve of waist and convex of hip. She held that position for a minute, writing busily.   
  
Well. Neck and face, thighs and hips. . . next she would do something to emphasize her bust, Integra silently betted. And Alucard must be in the ceiling watching over Integra's shoulder.   
  
Seras slowly stretched one foot out, emphasizing the curves of her calves, and slid her knee down, innocently crossing her ankles. The small slide she gave in her seat, pushing her skirt up the tiniest bit more, completely destroyed the chaste posture.   
  
Integra laid aside her first paper. She'd never seen that one before. Then again, most of the girls she'd watched were fellow children of upper-class families, wearing long skirts.   
  
From Seras' apparent oblivion, she was very good at unaware flirtation.   
  
Seras curled one strand of hair around her finger. She was getting near the end of her paperwork, and would leave soon. Integra wondered to herself whether Alucard would bother to report in before his charge put together the finale.   
  
Probably not. Alucard had the sense to appreciate good effort.   
  
Seras put down her pen and stretched, reading over her document to be sure it was complete. She settled into her chair, shoulders back and arms down. She lay one hand over her stomach to tauten the fabric of her blouse. Integra looked up. Seras was pushing it (pun intended,) almost acknowledging her intent.  
  
Seras glanced across, saw Integra watching her, and jumped up. "I'm finished."  
  
Integra stifled the urge to applaud. The vampire lay her report on the edge of the desk and left the room without the slightest flourish.  
  
Sir Integra glanced over the document, putting together Seras' startled look and trying to remember her own expression. Oh. She'd been smirking to herself.   
  
And once the object was aware of the show, the flirtation was ruined.****


	24. Eyesight

Author: TeaRoses.

Pairing/Interaction: Seras Victoria and Walter K. Dornez.

----

**Eyesight**

Seras Victoria was sitting on the couch in the small parlor at Hellsing Manor, waiting for EastEnders to begin.

Walter entered the room and dusted a perfectly clean table for a few moments. Seras looked up at him.

"Walter, why do you wear that thing?"

He raised an eyebrow and sat down next to her. "Wear what thing?"

"That monocle. Why don't you just get glasses like everybody else?"

"Because I can see quite well out of my other eye, I suppose."

He appeared thoughtful for a moment. "Very well, I'll confess it, I tend to think it makes me look distinguished."

Seras reached out and slid the eyepiece down his nose as he stared at her curiously.

"I think you look much cuter without it."

Walter laughed. "The last time anyone called me cute I believe we had another monarch on the throne."

Seras cocked her head to one side and remained quiet.

"Doing the math, are you? Don't bother. But... thank you."

He took the monocle back and squeezed her hand briefly, then left on his errands.


	25. I'd Be Surprisingly Good For You

Author: TeaRoses.

Pairing/Interaction: Yumi(ko) Takagi and Walter K. Dornez.

----

**I'd Be Surprisingly Good For You**

The butler stared from behind the tree at the woman with the flashing katana. Her dark hair whipped around her face and concealed her feral grin. Shouts of "heathen" and "hellbound" rang out. Blood spilled, heads rolled, and it was all quite impressive.   
  
He had been briefed and he knew what would happen next. A blonde woman dressed as a priest pocketed a gun and ran over. She was carrying a pair of glasses. The dark haired woman put them on, and Walter watched as she ceased her frenetic activity and lost the grin. She stared at her sword and the blood on it for a moment.  
  
Meanwhile, a further disturbance a the edge of the trees distracted the blonde woman and she drew her gun again and ran off.

Walter stepped from the shadows and addressed the woman who remained. "Don't you think that was a bit excessive?"

She stared. "Who are you?"

He gave a small bow. "Walter C. Dornez, Hellsing family retainer."

She nodded. "Oh of course. And I'm..."

"Yumiko, if I may be so familiar."

"Yes, but, what do you want?"

Walter shrugged. "Simply to give you some advice. Those were only ghouls. There was no need for all that."

Yumiko looked at him curiously. "How would you know?"

"We're all different on the battlefield, aren't we? Well, most of us have only one consciousness. But there's still a need for restraint."

Yumiko walked slowly and without urgency in the direction her companion had gone. There was already silence in that area.

"You're saying you're not yourself when you fight either?"

"Myself, yes... myself over five decades ago in Germany."

Yumiko nodded. "It's not the same though."

Walter looked at her a moment. "Perhaps not. But can you honestly tell me you don't enjoy that? You, Yumiko."

She turned away pointedly and he gripped her shoulder. She shook his hand off and whirled.

"I do have a vow of celibacy, you know."

Walter laughed. "Yes, you lot do have that unfortunate tendency, don't you?"

"What do you mean by that?" Yumiko was visibly upset.

He held up his hands. "Only something general and Protestant. I assure you I'm a harmless old man."

"You're as harmless as I am. You're a vicious killer with a sick interest in string, and I'm a psychotic nun with a bloody sword."

Walter tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. "Together, we fight crime?"

Yumiko nodded and turned. "Who knows?"

She walked on, and the butler followed behind.


	26. Generosity

Author: Thess.

Pairing/Interaction: Alucard and Pip Bernadette.

----

**Generosity**

"How much time has passed?"  
  
Alucard stared down Pip Bernadette, hiding his confusion. "How much time has passed since _what_?"  
  
"Well… you know _what_…" The Captain winked suggestively, implying what he was talking about.  
  
"I don't think that's any of your business, human," Alucard growled in reply, tempted to shred the mercenary for bringing up this… delicate subject. It had been quite a long time.  
  
Pip shook his head, "And here I am, thinking of offerin' my… _special_ services…"  
  
The vampire's eyes widened in shock, not wishing to dwell in Pip's mind, if indeed he had a brain, to see what he was thinking. "Only a man who isn't male enough to achieve the real thing with a woman would choose that path!"  
  
"But it's better than nothing, or do you like to be so sexuality frustrated…? I remember the showers pretty well…" Pip trailed off.  
  
Alucard looked ready to lunge and slaughter Pip at any moment. "How I was supposed to know you were showering in Integral's bathroom?! Your hair is long enough to pass as a woman's from behind and the herbal shampoo you used confused my senses…"  
  
The whole incident was a nightmare. He, in mist form, trailing down what he thought was the Master's hair until he arrived to the bottom. He shuddered to the memory. "We agreed not to bring that up again..."  
  
Pansy Frog, and here he had thought Pip fancied the Police Girl. He remembered the time when the French used to be fierce warriors not… this…_thing_. If Radu were alive, Alucard would have introduced Pip to him. Then impaled them together.  
  
"Yes, because you threatened to turn me into dog chow," Pip said, and rolled his only eye.  
  
"And I still maintain that." Alucard opened his mouth to show his fangs glittering predatorily.  
  
"That's your final answer? Are you _sure_? You should give it a shot. You don't know what you're missin'."  
  
"Quite. Bring up this issue once more, and I'll _'give a shot'_ to your head!" Alucard taunted, phasing away to haunt the staff and forget the conversation.  
  
Pip gave a slight shrug and lit his cigarette, watching Alucard disappear. Ungrateful vampire. The Captain was willing to let him borrow his porn collection and almost got his head bitten off in return. Some people just couldn't appreciate an act of generosity.****


	27. Claustrophobia

Author: Thess.

Pairing/Interaction: Yumi(ko) Takagi and Alucard.

----

**Claustrophobia**

It was no common for Alucard to brood about some subject. However, seeing how in his current situation (trapped in a dark, tiny place) he couldn't do anything better, Alucard started to recall how he ended up inside _here_.   
  
It all started when his Master announced the arrival of Iscariot agents delivering some message from the catholic swine. Alucard was in a extremely playful mood and Integral forbade him from toying with the Iscariots. Really cruel for her part. Even more so when he found out the envoys weren't child molesting priests, but young virgins. Ah, his fangs ached in anticipation. And yet the commands held him back.   
  
If Alucard wasn't allowed to come to the nuns, then they would come to him.   
  
The central air ventilation mysteriously broke, and Walter went to fix it as Alucard originally assumed the butler would do. Minutes after, a sister, the Japanese one, came down to the kitchen in order to seek refreshments, most certainly. He was waiting there, hiding and chuckling to himself for plotting such magnificent treat.   
  
Alucard's licked his lips, remembering the shocked expression that crossed Yumiko's face when she closed the fridge's door, her pupils dilating, mouth hanging open while he stared back at her. Or rather, while thirty of his demonic eyes stared at her through the metallic surface. His laugh had been voracious when the door was shut and the atmosphere became heavy with his spooky vampire tricks.   
  
Alucard could remember that as if it had happened a few hours ago. Maybe because it _did_ happen a few hours ago.   
  
_Triumph was his. The nun was quivering like a scared rabbit, too innocent to belong to the secret Inquisition, what was Maxwell thinking? If he ever did that.   
  
"Hello, Sister… did I startle you?"   
  
"B-back off, devil!" she yipped, throwing the bottle of water that she was holding towards his head. "Vade Retro!"  
  
He allowed the glass to shatter on face, piercing his skin a bit, causing a small trail of blood.  
  
"Sorry…" she muttered, looking remorseful for hurting Alucard by accident. He frowned, too soft. And idea crossed his mind, smirking devilishly, he stepped forward, circling Yumiko until he had practically pinned her to the kitchen table.   
  
"I'll forgive you only… you can lick my wounds… to disinfect them…" he purred, leaning into her face.   
  
Not that he could catch a bacterial infection, yet the idea of taking this little coward as a vampire was appealing if only to bother Integral and Maxwell. And getting free pure blood, all in the same strike. If she accepted, that is… If not well… Alucard would be content of scaring witless one catholic.   
  
Yumiko's face paled a few shades, "But that… will mean that…" she couldn't bring herself to finish. Good, the bint wasn't a complete moron and knew some undead facts.   
  
"It wouldn't be as bad, no cold, no unwanted physical needs," he temped to her ear, "And you won't need those grotesque glasses either…" He reached for them.  
  
__"NO! HEINKEL!"   
  
"No? __They can't hear you, little bird… Now let's get the rid off these."   
  
As soon he tossed the glasses at the other part of the room, Alucard felt a cold metallic caress against his neck, followed by a sharp pain. He was too confused to react properly.   
  
A cruel laugh rang on the kitchen now, and it wasn't his.  
  
"You filthy, demon!" the nun said, Alucard could barely recognize her voice. "Your cheap tricks are nothing to those chosen by God." She grabbed Alucard by his hair, forcing him to face her. "I know exactly where you belong…" Her eyes glinted in a malicious way._  
  
Then came total darkness… and the disgusting garlic odour around him. Along with Integral's irritating lecture when she found out what he had done.  
  
He must tell Walter to stop buying those wretched weeds before taking revenge at the nun. That would be in his 'To Do List' once Integral's anger at his actions subsided and she let him out. He was starting to feel claustrophobia, Alucard and small spaces weren't best friends since the twenty years he spent in confinement.  
  
Suddenly, artificial light brightened his features, the image of Pip Bernadette came to Alucard, the mercenary looked down the vampire quite baffled.  
  
"Do you mind?" Alucard snarled, "I'm thinking."   
  
Pip rolled his eye, threw an empty beer can on Alucard's head before closing the trash bin, and leaving the No Life King to his thoughts…


	28. Fade to Dust

Author: Thess.

Pairing/Interaction: Queen Elizabeth II and Alucard.

Setting: After the meeting in vol. 4.

----

**Fade to Dust**

Queen Elizabeth II had been restless that night after the meeting, concerned by the fate of her country if the nazis were back. She remembered World War II. At times she closed her eyes and could hear the people screaming, the despair in the air, the smoke filling her nostrils. The news were far from good.  
  
"A penny for your thoughts, Tillabeth?"   
  
A smile crossed her aged features, gaze falling on the red cloaked vampire who was standing next to her armchair.   
  
"That would be unfair. You can read my mind, Alucard."   
  
The vampire grinned at the old ruler, not smugly, maniacal or sarcastic but a smile reserved only for her, decades had passed but he didn't forget. Neither did she.  
  
"Have you received my gift? When Integra told me that we were to meet with you, I captured it on my way to the airport."   
  
Elizabeth nodded, bending down to the coffee table to pick up a heavy book. She opened it, revealing a dead butterfly, its wings were orange and black with white spots.  
  
"I have. I must admit your taste for souvenirs is odd."  
  
"Perhaps but quite fitting." Alucard reached for the dead insect, taking it on his palm.   
  
"How so?"  
  
"Do you know the butterfly name?"  
  
"I haven't got the time to look up…"  
  
"Don't bother. It's _Lycorea cleobaea_, the Tiger-Queen."  
  
Elizabeth laughed, eyeing the vampire with mischief.   
  
"And since _when_ you have become an expert in that field?"  
  
"I haven't. One of the humans I… ate used to have the hobby."  
  
His smirk turned malicious for a second.   
  
"I'm aware of that, I watched it in B.B.C. The Brazilian government is making a fuss…"  
  
"I couldn't care less for mortal matters. In any case, I chose the butterfly because it remind me of you."   
  
The laugh ceased, instead Elizabeth lifted an eyebrow, curious.  
  
"Oh? Please, enlighten me."  
  
Alucard chuckled, a finger stroke the butterfly as he talked.   
  
"Apart from both being beautiful rulers?"   
  
"Flattering won't make me order to Sir Hellsing to free you, Alucard."   
  
"Such shame. You'd have owned the City of the Impaled if she set me free. A great touristic attraction that would make."   
  
"A tragic loss indeed. That was all?"  
  
Alucard tossed the butterfly to the book, looking down Elizabeth with the closest he could achieve of a fond expression.  
  
"I just wondered if you'll remain as beautiful and regal as the butterfly once you're dead. If we could keep you like that to remember."  
  
Elizabeth grimaced, taking the insect between her fingers, rubbing the wings idly.  
  
"I doubt it. _This_ butterfly has no wings to fly, nor fancy dust to display. Nor any offer to accept. The embers of war would incinerated her into nothingness."   
  
Alucard inclined his head, distancing himself from her, starting to vanish into the shadows. Even with the eternal smirk plastered in his lips, Elizabeth could tell he was disappointed.   
  
"A pity."  
  
Elizabeth threw the butterfly to the fireplace, watching it burn in the flames.  
  
"Don't pity her. With no regrets she'll fade to dust."


	29. Louder than Words

Author: Thess.

Pairing/Interaction: Integral Hellsing and Hans Gunsche

----

**Louder than Words**

He was numb.  
  
Chains could hold Hans Gunsche, take his freedom and force him into an unwilling hiatus from the war raging across England. But none of their tortures would faze him, not the drugs, useless against his undead system, nor the beatings that only caused broken bones to his abusers.  
  
These Englishmen didn't seem to appreciate the saying 'silence is golden.'  
  
Hans remained alive only for information. Unfortunately for the interrogators, however, he wasn't a man of words. Hans had never spoken among his peers; he wouldn't start talking with his foes.  
  
They were applying heated irons now, burning his skin deeply. The Captain however, didn't notice the smoke coming out his flesh, instead he focused his attention on the woman seated across the cell.  
  
Integral Hellsing didn't blink, holding his gaze steady with an expression caught between annoyance and amusement.  
  
Hans was entranced by the knight and couldn't figure out why. What did she possess that fascinated him? It wasn't her appearance, but the authoritative aura that she projected: dignified and superior. An aura similar to the Major's.  
  
Perhaps the drugs managed to fog his brain despite his vampiric condition.   
  
Suddenly, Integral smiled quite wickedly at him, then rose from her seat and stepped forward.   
  
"Gentlemen," she addressed, "That will be enough. Wait outside, I'll continue the interrogation."   
  
The soldiers didn't hesitate to comply, leaving the pair alone.   
  
"Walter told me about your tolerance to pain, Captain," Integral started, pacing in circles around the nazi. Each movement reminded Hans of a lioness stalking her prey. "I'm also aware that your… quiet nature is not a handicap. Both your tongue and vocal chords are intact. So you can speak if you want to, or can't you?"   
  
Hans grimaced at the mention of his old rival.  
  
"I see… You're going to be difficult," she chuckled, "But in the end, you'll talk. Only you know which cities will be the next targeted by your organization and I have orders from Her Majesty herself to obtain the locations."  
  
She headed towards him, intentions unreadable to him. Hans imagined he would lose a limb, anticipating the action to come.   
  
What Integral did was unexpected. Her digits were on his nude chest, stroking the soft material of gloves against his naked flesh. Pure white turned crimson, soaked with his blood. She brought an alien, enjoyable sensation to his nerves. The exploration was clumsy, inexperienced yet firm and possessive.   
  
Hans didn't know what the Hellsing was doing when she pinched his nipples, but it provoked a shudder on his spine.  
  
"Ah, so you're not immune to pleasure as you're to pain…"  
  
His eyes widened in realization, her intentions clear.   
  
Warm lips brushed his ear, murmuring. "For protecting my country, I must use all the methods at my disposal."   
  
Integral didn't bother to talk anymore, her hands spoke louder than any words. A taunting touch that drove him insane for hours and left him unfulfilled. He would have to beg for more, paying the price to her.   
  
Hans had once regarded himself beyond the needs of the flesh, he was wrong. He was broken.  
  
At the end of the day, Integral exited the cell, cigar between her lips. Victorious.


	30. Competition

Author: Thess.

Pairing/Interaction: Integral Hellsing and Heinkel Wolfe

Setting: After events of vol. 6 of the manga.

----

**Competition**

"Why don't you give up, protestant?" Heinkel asked, reloading her twin Desert Eagles.   
  
"Only one can walk out of here victorious, nun," Integral chuckled, tightening her grip on the P90 Submachine Gun she was holding. "And it's going to be _me_."  
  
Both women stood facing each other, uncaring of the fire that danced around them in the devastated London. Their eyes were hidden, unreadable. Either by dark shades or by the glare of the light in the glasses' surface. Neither of them could tell where the other was looking at.  
  
The sounds of footsteps around the women gave it the sign to be ready, Heinkel and Integral pulled up the triggers at the same time. A rain of steel and blood started, staining the smoldered brick beneath them.   
  
"Not bad for a heathen sow, Hellsing." Wolfe grinned fanatically, licking her lips as she moved towards her target.   
  
"A compliment from the lips of a cross-dressing catholic catholic is always welcomed, Sister Heinkel," the Hellsing hid behind a half demolished wall in order to give her the edge in the crossfire.   
  
"Cross-dressing? You shouldn't be throwing the first rock."   
  
Integral merely shrugged and kept shooting until her prey couldn't stand anymore.  
  
"Vell? How many?"   
  
"Fourteen. You?"   
  
Heinkel grit her teeth. "Twelve." She kicked the remains of a vampire soldier in petty anger.   
  
"I win this round," Integral declared smugly, stepping out of her hideout while exhaling smoke out of her mouth.   
  
"I von the one before. I call a tie, Hellsing."   
  
"Once more?" the knight proposed, glancing at the oncoming nazi squad, running directly towards them.  
  
"They never learn," Heinkel muttered with a grin. "Very vell. Two out of three."   
  
And the competition between the members of Christian sects was renewed.


	31. Coming to an End

Author: Thess.

Pairing/Interaction: Integral Hellsing and Alexander Anderson.

Setting: Possible ending of the manga events, otherwise AU.

----

**Coming to an End**

"I never thought the day I mourn a protestant sow would come, Hellsing… But it seems I was mistaken, lass…"  
  
Integral lifted her lashes, trying to keep them open. But they were so heavy… and she felt so weak. How she hated that. Weakness that bought pity in the Catholic's heart. She had her pride.   
  
The Hellsing could barely distinguish Anderson's figure through broken and stained lenses. Covered with blood. Her blood.   
  
"Did we win…?" Integral coughed her question while trying to move. But it was a fruitless attempt, her abdomen had been impaled to the floor with a pole. Major's sick attempt at humor to deliver her to Alucard. He wasn't a skilled Impaler as her servant was.   
  
"Aye, lass… ye killed the beast, God blessed yer sword," The Paladin replied, gesturing towards the wall where Max's body was hanging. The sabre through his throat still leeching his dark liquid out of the wound in his neck. The Major's features were twisted between horror, surprise and victory.   
  
"Good…. Alucard will be angry," Integral commented, crying out in pain when Anderson pulled out the sharp stick from her. "He missed his war." Her lips pursed into a bitter smirk.  
  
"That's not the only thing the Devil will be furious about," Alexander commented, eyeing her wounds. Too deep, if Integral were a regenerator she would make it. But she wasn't.   
  
Integral laughed, not minding that her core hurt when she did so. "He will be free, you really think that he harbors human feelings? My, Paladin, defending your arch-nemesis now?"   
  
Anderson gave a slight shrug, "He's a demon hound. Evil, aye, but still yer dog, thus loyal in some disgusting way." The catholic gnashed his teeth at the thought of the vampire.   
  
"I suppose you are right, Anderson… Perhaps the bloodloss has affected my brain already," Integral chuckled, trying her best to stay awake.   
  
For several minutes there was silence between both of them, the two reluctant to talk to each other. There was too much hatred inbred in their mutual fanatism.   
  
"This is the proper time fer a confession…" Anderson proposed.   
  
"I'm protestant, Anderson. I answer to God, not to you and your Pope."   
  
"A conversation then?"  
  
"Why you would want to have a conversation with a protestant, Father?" Integral taunted. Anderson growled, hitting the floor with his fists, restraining his psychotic mannerisms for the time being. "Fine," she conceded. "What you would want to talk about with a dying Hellsing?"  
  
"Do ye have any regrets?"   
  
"Apart of ruining my expensive cigars with my nasty blood?" Integral asked with her trademark dark humor. Anderson didn't bother to reply that and waited for her to finish. "Perhaps this should be the time for wishing that I hadn't sent Alucard away to fight that Navy… or left Walter… If they were with me, I wouldn't be dying right now. And Alucard wouldn't be soon free to twist and maim the world to his unholy image. I should wish that, but I don't."   
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I'm a Hellsing, Paladin. We cannot accept failure or defeat."   
  
"Pride is a sin."   
  
"So is rage. Both, you and I, are sinners, then."  
  
Anderson scoffed, crossing his arms at her barb. Even in death she had to remain ever unperturbed. He noticed her arms were trembling and took out his coat to cover her with it.  
  
"Thank you. Death is cold but not painful… in fact, it's the opposite, it's numb."   
  
"Do ye wish anything else?" Anderson asked hesitantly, wondering why he was comforting the sow. Perhaps the fact they were brief comrades in arms against the undead deserved his respect. If only a sparkle of it.   
  
"Yes," Integral replied weakly, her pulse rate and breathing almost vanishing. "Describe me the end of the world once we meet in Heaven…"   
  
Anderson grinned maniacally.   
  
"There's something we know fer sure, the Virgin dinnae give birth and the Dragon devoured her."


	32. And No Birds Sing

Author: trollopfop.

Pairing/Interaction: Alucard and Walter K. Dornez.

Setting: World War II.

----

**And No Bird Sing**

Walter knows the war is temporary. Eventually, he'll go back to his new home, to the people who are so earnestly trying to teach him to sit up straight, to stop dropping his 'h's, to pretend to the kind of station he'd never even dreamed of. Hellsing saved him, took him out of the gutter and gave him a purpose. He's grateful, of course, and he tries to do and be what they want.  
  
But the war lets him backslide a bit, lets him remember a hundred backalley fights, lets him lose himself in the pure joy of killing. There's a monster hiding behind his eyes, something that craves the blood, the terror, the sheer ecstasy that comes with each kill. When he fights, when he bleeds, that's when he's immortal. The war is a stage for monsters like him and like Alucard, something that strips away the veneer of civility imposed on them. The war lets them, for the space of a few precious battles, be immortal together.  
  
Alucard... Alucard wasn't what he expected. He was... beautiful. So like a girl, but with a ferocity Walter had never seen in a girl before. And he'd seen several, softly scented little things, like mewing kittens, so eager to please, so desperate to be noticed. They bored him. Alucard had that beauty, that illusion of fragility, but underneath was the smell of old blood, and a nightmare of teeth and blood-red eyes. In those eyes Walter sees a wanton bloodlust that matches his own. He sees the teeth behind that gentle smile, and sometimes he wonders...  
  
What would it be like to bury his hands in the silken fall of Alucard's hair? What would happen if he let his wires sing through the air, shred that pristine white suit, bind the pale flesh underneath? He wants the vampire to gasp, to bleed for him. He knows how dangerous it is, knows that Alucard outmatches him in every way. No matter how it begins, it'll end with his blood on Alucard's lips. But he wonders.  
  
And, as if he's following Walter's thoughts _(And he probably is, the bastard...)_, Alucard looks at him and smiles. No words, just the smile, dark and hinting at things Walter can't even begin to imagine. _I'm not a bleedin' poof,_ he thinks, defiantly. Alucard's smile only widens, so subtly that if he hadn't been looking for such a signal, Walter would have missed it. There's no question he heard that thought. And they both know it doesn't matter. The war is a sticky red fairyland for monsters like them. The normal rules no longer apply.  
  
And Walter knows that soon, after this mission, or maybe another, when the bloodlust is running high in them both, it will happen. A chain of events has been set in motion, and Walter has no way of knowing where it will end. All he knows is that soon, soon, he'll learn just how far this too-fleeting immortality goes.****


	33. Berlin Pastiche

Author: Urwen.

Pairing/Interaction: Wolfe Heinkel and Schroedinger.

----

**Berlin Pastiche**

A little girl in a blue dress was curled up behind a dustbin in a dirty corner of a dirty street. Her grimy face was streaked with tears. She tried to squash further into her hiding place. Perhaps if she hid well enough, the boys would not find her. Her dress was covered in filth. Sister Ilse would be very angry at her for getting so dirty and might even slap her, although it was not her fault, she had had to get this dirty to get away from the street children. It was then that she heard slow, quiet footsteps, soft and slinking. Like a cat.  
  
A face appeared around the side of the dustbin and grinned. It was a boy.. of some kind. The girl shrank back again. The boy had little black ear-like things on the sides of his head, and when he grinned, his teeth were rather pointed. He wore some kind of uniform, the slightly-too-short shorts exposing bare white legs.  
  
'It's all right.' He said. 'They've gone.'  
  
The girl nodded. The boy was older than her, but had a kind, friendly face, and she trusted friendly faces easily. In time, she would learn not to. She crawled out of the corner, wiping her face and smearing streaks across her cheeks.   
  
'You must be from the orphanage. What's your name, liebschen?'  
  
'Wolfe.'  
  
'Wolfe? Funny name for a girl.'  
  
Wolfe's face fell. She adjusted her glasses, mended with tape where the frames had broken, to hide her eyes.  
  
The boy smiled. 'You don't chase cats, do you, wolf-cub?'  
  
Wolfe laughed a little and covered her mouth. She shook her head.  
  
'Little aryan wolf-cubs shouldn't be running around alone in the big city. I'll take you back to the orphanage.' He offered his hand. Wolfe took it.  
  
As they walked back towards the orphanage, Wolfe didn't notice the strange looks passers by gave the boy. She was too engrossed him. She was almost sad when they reached the church gates and he stopped, and folded his arms behind his back.  
  
'Here we are. Auf wiedersehen, wolf-cub.'  
  
Wolfe nodded, then stood up on tiptoe and kissed him lightly on the cheek. His eyes widened in surprise and he put a hand to his cheek as she pulled away. She quickly ran through the gate and down the path that ran behind the church to the orphanage. Half way down she turned, looked back and waved.  
  
But he was already gone.


	34. Painting Her Roses Blue

Author: van Helsing.

Pairing/Interaction: Rip Van Winkle and Antony (Enrico's cousin).

Setting: A/U where Rip doesn't die and joins Hellsing.

----

**Painting Her Roses Blue**

He looked at her, not quite sure what to do.  
  
"Well?"   
  
Silence was her answer. After what seemed an eternity, she took a breath, and turned her attention to him.  
  
"I think I like it."  
  
He frowned. "You THINK you like it? How can that be? You either do, or you don't…." She mused for a moment, tilting her head from one side to the other.  
  
"Ja." The rest of her sentence went unsaid.  
  
"Ja? Ja WHAT?"   
  
She smiled.  
  
"Ja, I think I like it." He laughed, shaking his head.  
  
"Well, as long as you think you like it, I suppose it's okay." He turned his attention back to his reports, began to fiddle with his car keys. Several moments of silence passed between them.  
  
"What about some blue?"  
  
"Blue is good." Rip smiled, and picked up the can of blue paint. She exited the car, and started her third trip up to Hellsing Manor.  
  
_When Walter had said that the Manor was in need of a paint job, I'm sure this is not what he had in mind._ Rip chuckled to herself.


	35. Mirth and Flowers

Author: Zimon66.

Pairing/Interaction: Seras Victoria and Luke Valentine.

Setting: AU where Luke is captured instead of killed after his duel with Alucard.

----

**Mirth and Flowers**

The overall cool and in-control demeanor was mostly for those he didn't trust and or those to be kept at arm's length for whatever reason.  
  
Seras was very trusted and she enjoyed having someone who not only was like a big brother but also understood what it was like to be a vampire. Luke in turn enjoyed thinking of her as both a close friend and a little sister.  
  
It was wonderful being able to talk about anything, including the loss of her father, he the loss of his younger brother and be able to finally let go of some of the pain.  
  
During downtime, they would take long walks together in various areas on the Hellsing Mansion grounds, sometimes chatting and sometimes in silence. The place for today's early evening stroll was the large rose garden, Spring had come early and everything was in bloom.  
  
As they admired the flowers, Seras muttered quietly "Watching us again."  
  
"Maybe inside there's a frustrated nature show host trying to get out." Luke joked.  
  
"Be nice", she chided, "Been so long out of touch with his human side doesn't understand our relationship and is trying to figure it out."  
  
The blond shook his head amusingly, "Sorry, can help it, rather funny how instead of coming right out and questioning us Alucard sneaks around like he's filming a couple of rare birds."  
  
"Don't talk like that", Seras chided again, "or we'll get netted and leg banded."  
  
They both couldn't help but laugh together.****


End file.
